The Man With The Umbrella, Mystrade
by They Call Me Mrs. Holmes
Summary: My first Mystrade, from the POV of Lestrade. Lestrdae met the eldest Holmes, and found that he is nothing like Sherlock. in a good way. hopefully he gets to see him some more? This one's for Bakerstreetbeliever
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you to Lockie, with help for the Beige scenario. (It is a lovely colour.)**

**This one is for Bakerstreetbeliever. I hope you like it! x**

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Lestrade watched as two dark figures got out of the taxi and made their way to him. One was taller than the other; he had curled ebony hair, and wore a deep blue scarf and long coat that swished around him as he walked. The shorter man, walked with a straight back and confidence. He had greying blonde hair, as he was slightly older than the other, and wore a checked shirt and a cream cardigan. The two men looked at each other and grinned, clearly happy to be together at the scene.

Lestrade lifted up the police tape for the two men to duck under, without breaking their pace. The taller man walked on ahead, whilst the shorter stopped to smile at Lestrade, before hurrying to catch up with his partner.

"Well?" Lestrade asked.

The taller man quickly glanced at Lestrade, "Give me a minute; I've only just looked at them!"

"You're slipping," joked the shorter man. The tall man glared half-heartedly at him and resumed observations on the scene.

The three men were surrounding a woman, a dead woman; who was lying on the pavement in the middle of a bus station. She had a visible bullet wound to her back, which had leaked a small pool of blood that surrounded her.

"Well?" Lestrade asked again. The tall man in the long coat straightened up and stood by Lestrade.

"She wasn't killed here, she was moved here."

"How do you know that?" he asked bewildered.

The tall man rolled his eyes, "Look at what she's wearing. A black dress and a matching shawl, expensive clothes. Clearly she has no need to be catching a bus when she can afford clothes at that price. Also," he bent down to hold up the dead woman's hand, "Manicured fingernails, yet not false nails. Most likely she is a secretary, types a lot and therefore can't afford to have long nails that will get in the way. She has a purse with her but no money and no car keys, either this is a mugging, highly doubt that, or she was being picked up by someone else."

"Why isn't this a mugging?" Lestrade frowned. "There are all the signs for it."

"As I said Lestrade, she was moved here. A secretary, expensive clothes, whereas she might be a mugging target, she most likely worked in the centre of town, for a large company. Therefore that would not be the type of area where someone can be shot and mugged, in public. No, she was targeted, followed back to her home where she was killed there and taken here, most probably. But! Most importantly, we know she worked for an accountant."

"If you're making this up…." Lestrade sighed.

The tall man dismissed the accusation and bent back down to pick up the hand, "A bracelet, one with a bird on it and an engraving. 'Thanks for all your hard work, M. James'."

"She worked as a secretary for Michael James, the accountant in the centre of town," the short man spoke up.

"Well done, John," the tall man said sarcastically. "If you call them up I'm sure he'd be able to tell you that she didn't show up for dinner tonight, and that he'd be able to tell you everything you need to know. John and I will go visit her office, goodnight." The pair left the crime scene and back into the taxi that had remained waiting for them.

Lestrade rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Get Donovan to call M James accountants, ask them if they are missing anyone and if so inform them of the body. Also tell them that two men should be showing up at the office and that they are with the police," Lestrade told a new officer who had been watching open-mouthed from the side-line. She quickly nodded to the DI and ran off to find the sergeant.

Lestrade started to walk back to the tape that was warding people off the crime scene, when he saw a gentleman looking into the distance. He strode up to the tall man curiously. He had a face that immediately demanded every ounce of your attention. His slate grey eyes were deep and held a rare spark that showed knowledge and intelligence. Authority oozed from his posture and powerful stance. The man flattened out his crisp mocha suit before extending his hand to the DI, "Mycroft Holmes, I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes."

Lestrade took his hand and shook it, unable to stop staring at the man, "Holmes? As in related to Sherlock?"

The man took his hand back and straightened out his red tie, "Yes. Sherlock is my brother."

Lestrade gaped at the handsome stranger, "Brother? He has a brother?"

The man with the umbrella smiled, "Yes. Although he is often unwilling to accept it. Is he here? I know he usually attends to these sorts of scenes."

"No, sorry. He just left a few minutes ago with…"

"John Watson? Good, I shall call him and see if he answers," the man interrupted.

Whilst the man turned his back on Lestrade to call John, Lestrade was able to look at the man properly. He didn't look much like his brother; he wasn't thin like Sherlock, which in Lestrade's opinion was a positive. He dressed nicer than Sherlock; clearly he cared about his appearance and wanted to look the gentleman.

"Sorry about that, it seems my brother is helping you with the case, again," the man apologised.

"Yeah. He helps the Yard out sometimes, when we need it," Lestrade replied.

"How lovely," he smiled, with a hint of sarcasm.

Lestrade shook his head to clear his thoughts, "Look, I'm not being rude but is there anything else I can help you with? This is a crime scene after all. "

The man shook his head, "No, I don't think there is. Although I think I will be seeing more of you, Detective Inspector….."

"Lestrade," he said. "DI Lestrade."

"Well then, DI Lestrade. It has been a pleasure meeting you, I look forward to the fortunate day when we meet again," he said. "Goodnight." He turned around and made his way back to the sheer black car that rolled up to the man, the door opened to reveal a woman with brown hair, clothed in a black dress similar to the victims. A secretary? Lestrade thought. He watched the man with the umbrella enter the posh car and drive away.


	2. 2 A second meeting

**An incredibly short chapter, sorry. Bakerstreetbeliever, thinking of you x **

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"How's things between you two?" Lestrade nodded his head in Sherlock's direction.

John looked over to the detective who was flicking through pages at a desk, "We're good, I can get him to eat most days, but sometimes he just won't listen."

Lestrade nodded, he had thought very hard about how he was going to approach this subject, "So, I met his brother a couple of days ago….."

John looked at Lestrade frowning, "Mycroft? How did that happen?"

Lestrade nodded his head, "He was looking for Sherlock at the bus stop scene, he just missed you and we got talking for a bit."

John pulled a surprised face, "I bet that was unfortunate."

"No, he was quite nice. So, what's he like?" the DI asked.

Sherlock yelled "Aha!" and dove under the table to retrieve several pieces of paper, and continued to examine them.

"Mycroft…. can be a pain, yet he is intelligent. There is a massive sibling rivalry between Sherlock and him. They can be quite childish towards each other, competitive. He takes pride in his job, it's very important to him," John explained.

Lestrade smiled, glad that the conversation was going as planned, "What is his job? I could tell it was something important."

John chuckled, "_He_ says he occupies a minor position in the British Government, Sherlock says he practically _is_ the British Government. Whatever it is, he knows a lot of important people, and is quite important himself."

Sherlock jumped up and returned back to the talking men, "What?"

"We were talking about Mycroft, Lestrade met him a few days ago," John caught Sherlock up.

Sherlock pulled an unpleasant face, "Mycroft…."

"Has finally found you," a voice interrupted. The man with the umbrella strode in, using it as a walking stick. Today he wore blue a suit with a white tie, which made soft swooshing noises as he walked. The fabric was expensive, a sign of his wealth. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically.

"What do you want?" he asked pugnaciously.

Mycroft stopped in front of the group, "Good day. Sherlock, you can't hide from them forever. They want to see you."

"Well I'm far too busy!" Sherlock claimed.

Mycroft stared at the anti-social man, who looked anything but busy, "I can see," he said sarcastically. "They would like to have dinner with you, tomorrow night."

"I'm sorry but I can't, John and I are…. "

"Completely free, this is about Sherlock avoiding his parents, yes?" John interrupted.

Mycroft smiled graciously at him, "Yes. Sherlock has been trying to avoid seeing them."

"Well I for one would like to see them again," John said. "Now come on, we have to buy Mrs Hudson a new frying pan. Seeing as her last one somehow was dented," John stared at Sherlock accusingly.

"Fine," he scowled.

"Good day, brother mine," Mycroft sang. Sherlock scoffed and stormed out of the office, closely followed by John.

Lestrade coughed, "Hello, again."

Mycroft turned to the man and smiled, "Ah, DI Lestrade. I trust that you have been well?"

"Um, yes? I'm fine, thanks. And you?"

"Very good, thank you. I would also like to invite you to the dinner tomorrow."

"Me?" Lestrade frowned. "This seems like a family thing, I don't think it would be best."

Mycroft nodded understandingly, "I see, a shame. How about the following day? Are you free?"

"Er, yes I am. Why?" he asked shyly. _Is he asking me on a date? _

Mycroft smiled, "Dinner, at Paulo's."

"The restaurant? Sure, what should I wear?" he asked excitedly.

"Whereas I wouldn't object to it, clothes would be helpful. Preferably a suit."

_Did he just openly flirt with me? _ Lestrade coughed, "A suit, I can do that, yeah."

"Good, I will send a car to pick you up. Good day, DI Lestrade," Mycroft was about to leave.

"Greg, my name is Greg," he blurted out quickly.

"Good day, Gregory," Mycroft nodded and left the office.

_Did I just get a date with Sherlock's brother? _


	3. 3 The first date

Lestrade straightened out his blue tie; he had bought it especially for his new date. He rolled back his shoulders and smiled at himself in the mirror, happy with how he looked and ready to be picked up. He had never been to the restaurant before and hoped that his black suit would do.

There was a short rasp on the door, Lestrade looked over at it gulped. Only now did he realise how nervous he was. He walked over and opened it, expecting to see Mycroft but instead he was greeted by a shorter man, with greying hair. He wore a black suit and a black shirt, and a hat that he held under his arm. Lestrade guessed that he was the chauffer. "DI Lestrade?" his voice was deep and thick.

Lestrade nodded and followed the man out into the hallway, he locked his door and walked behind the man who led him to a sleek black car. The chauffer opened the back door to reveal a tall man in a deep blue suit, the same colour as Lestrade's tie. Mycroft Holmes leant forward so Lestrade could see him and smiled. "Good evening, Gregory."

"Mycroft," he nodded. Lestrade slid into the back seat and smiled nervously at Mycroft. "How have you been?"

Mycroft smiled confidently back at the nervous man, "Very good, thank you. I had to deal with a minor situation with Sherlock, but otherwise my day was far from interesting," he lied. "And you?"

"Oh, um. We discovered a body outside a church; Sherlock was immediately down to investigate. But I guess you already knew that?"

Mycroft chuckled silently, "That I did. How is the investigation going?"

Lestrade frowned slightly, "Not very well. We don't seem to have any leads, but I can't really tell you anymore. Sorry, I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," he confirmed. "Have you ever been to Paulo's?"

Lestrade shook his head, "No, I'm afraid. It's usually microwave meals and frozen food for me. I take it that you have?"

"Yes, it is lovely," he nodded. "I do hope you'll like it. They have a brilliant bottle of 1999 Domaine de la Romanee Conti la Tache. It's a full-bodied Burgundy Pinot Noir with a nose of raspberries, strawberries, oak, and spice. It's very expressive on the tongue, with a silky texture."

Lestrade nodded, faking an understanding of the conversation. Lestrade was more of a beer drinker, who usually drinks with John. The two of them certainly don't drink fine wine.

The car came to a slow stop and the driver left the car to open the door on Mycroft's side. Mycroft smiled graciously and got out. The driver was about to shut the door when Lestrade shuffled over the seats in order to climb out on the same side of the car. Mycroft raised a shocked eyebrow at the ungraceful behaviour yet dismissed the need to say something, like he usually would with his brother.

Mycroft nodded to the driver who got back in the vehicle and drove away, leaving Lestrade and Mycroft to enter the restaurant. Lestrade let Mycroft take the lead, choosing to follow behind him. He stopped by a woman who was checking a list of reservations.

"One moment, sorry," she said without looking up.

"Mycroft Holmes, table for two," he still said.

The lady gasped and her head flew up, "Ah! Mrs Holmes, I'm so sorry. We're very busy tonight." She did not check that his name was on the list. "The table where you usually sit?"

"Yes please, Rebecca," he nodded. "No need to show me, thank you."

She nodded and nervously resumed her list checking. _Did Mycroft have this effect on everyone?_ Lestrade pondered.

Mycroft walked past the lobby and into the main dining room, where this time Lestrade gasped. The room was luxurious. A low hanging chandelier was suspended in the centre of the room, with smaller glass lights scattered about the ceiling. The décor was mostly red and cream, a regal feeling and a distinguished atmosphere. Mycroft walked ahead to his table at the back, a more secluded area. Lestrade's head flicked from side to side, absorbing ever detail about the restaurant. From the grand piano beneath the chandelier, to the table cloths with minute patterns. The restaurant was in every way magnificent.

"Here we are," Mycroft stopped at a table and pulled back a chair. Lestrade walked round to the other side and pulled out his own chair. "What do you think?"

"It's amazing, it's very classy," he said astonished. Mycroft smiled, glad that he was able to impress Lestrade.

A thin young man came sauntering up to the table, holding two menus in hand. "Good evening Mr Holmes, may I interest you with a menu? Or do you have a specific meal you would like the chef to create?"

"Good evening, Marcus. We'll have a look at the menus to start off, but we may have something from the kitchen, thank you."

The waiter handed both of the men a menu and dismissed himself from the table, giving the men a chance to look.

Lestrade's eyes widened, "Wow, everything here sounds delicious."

"Yes, however if nothing takes your fancy, the chef will be able to create us a meal of our choice if you so wish," Mycroft assured.

Lestrade chuckled, "I think I will be okay thanks. What would you recommend?"

Mycroft scanned the menu, he had tried almost everything on the menu at one point, yet he did have his favourite. "I will be having the Confit of salmon with new potato and crab crush and dill drizzle."

_Fish_, Lestrade registered. _With potato and sauce?_ Lestrade didn't know what to think of that.

"Or," Mycroft offered, sensing Lestrade's confusion. "If you are more of a red meat lover, there is the option of a fillet steak and creamed green beans and leaks?"

"Yeah, that sounds great," Lestrade agreed. Steak he was more comfortable with. Mycroft nodded and lifted his hand, gesturing with two fingers for the waiter to return. Almost immediately, the young waiter came sauntering over, a notepad poised in his hands.

"Are you ready to order, sirs?"

"Yes, I will have the Confit of salmon with new potato and crab crush and dill drizzle. And my friend here," he gestured to Lestrade with his large hands, "Will be having the fillet steak and creamed green beans and leaks."

"Excellent choices sirs. May I interest you in a bottle?" the youngster asked.

"Yes, the usual please, Marcus." The young man nodded and hurried off. "So, how is working with my little brother? As stressful as it is to look after him?"

Lestrade laughed, "No, he can be a pain, definitely. But he gets results and that's something that the Yard needs."

Mycroft nodded, "Good, work is very important."

Lestrade saw his opportunity and took it, "Speaking of which, what is it that you do?"

"Ah," Mycroft smiled. "I occupy a minor…"

"Position in the British Government, I know, I asked John." Lestrade interrupted.

"You've been asking about me?"

Lestrade blushed, "That's not the point, what is it that you _really_ do?"

"I dabble in certain international affairs, I am someone who has his fingers in many pies," he explained.

"Wow. So you're not a politician?"

Mycroft scowled, "Far from it."

The two laughed together.

"That was delicious," Lestrade smiled.

Mycroft continued to laugh, "Yes. It always is, more wine?" he asked.

Lestrade nodded, and watched as his glass refilled for the countless time. "The wine is amazing!"

"As you have said several times!" Mycroft replied, slightly red cheeked.

A waiter who was smiling slightly at the site of the men, walked up with two smaller menus in hand. "Would you like any deserts?"

Mycroft's eyes widened in the possibility, yet he raised his hand and was about to dismiss the waiter when Lestrade cut in. "Yes, please." The waiter nodded and placed the two menus on the table, before leaving.

"I really shouldn't," Mycroft started.

"Of course you should! It's just a desert, do they do cake?" Lestrade asked. His eyes scanning for an appealing desert.

Mycroft grinned, "Yes, they most certainly have cake. Try the devil's food cake, it's to die for."

Lestrade put down his menu, "I'll take your word for it."

"That was probably the tastiest thing I've ever had," Lestrade sighed happily, he was certainly full. He leant back in his chair and watched Mycroft do the same; both of the men had cleared their plates and watched as they were taken away.

"I shouldn't have done that, I'm meant to be on a diet," Mycroft complained. "I definitely shouldn't have done that."

"Don't be stupid, you don't need to be on a diet," the detective protested.

"That is most kind," Mycroft smiled. "I think I'm ready for the bill." He gestured for a man to carry over the bill, which was placed in front of the government official within a matter of minutes. Lestrade reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. "No, I'll pay."

"No you won't, I'll pay," Lestrade said firmly.

"No you won't, I will pay for this one," Mycroft said equally as sure.

"This one?"

"Yes, and you can pay for the next," Mycroft hinted.

Lestrade smiled, "I'd like that, the next one will definitely be on me."


	4. 4 Saying good night

Lestrade got out of the sleek car and shut the door; he started to walk back to his house when he heard another car door shutting. He turned around to watch as Mycroft walked around from the car and stood by Lestrade. He smiled at the DI who returned it, and they both made their way to the front door.

They stopped and turned to face each other, both unsure as to what to do. The cold air was crisp and hair raising, the sky was black and shone with a thousand tiny stars. Mycroft wrapped his jacket around himself even tighter, attempting to shield himself from the brutality of the cold. Lestrade fumbled with his keys in his gloved hands, watching the man opposite him intently.

"So, I had a great time tonight," Lestrade broke the silence.

"As did I," Mycroft replied. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"Me too, but next time it will have to be a night in, take-away meals," Lestrade said.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows, imagining the possibility of a take-away. He was sure it would be far from the standard of food he was used to. "A take-away?"

"Or I could cook? I like to cook sometimes, baking too," offered the detective inspector.

"A home-cooked meal sounds lovely, as does desert."

Lestrade smiled, "Great. How about this weekend?"

"That sounds charming, I look forward to it," Mycroft smiled back.

"Great. I'll see you on Saturday at seven?"

"Yes, of course," Mycroft said. He slowly leaned in warily, shy as to how Lestrade would act. He leant close to Lestrade, their lips almost touching, when he turned his head and kissed Lestrade on his cheek. His lips lingered on the skin for a while, before pulling back. "Goodnight, Gregory."

Lestrade didn't reply, too shocked as to what just happened. He watched as Mycroft left the doorway and strutted back to the car, where the chauffeur was waiting with an open door. He slid in and the door closed, blocking Lestrade's view of the man. The car drove away and the detective unlocked the door to his house and stepped in. He shook off his coat and sat down on the sofa, switching on his phone to see if there was anything, he did have a text from John.

**Good luck with tonight, I hope you find him more appealing than Sherlock and I do. Sherlock has also some news about the case but I said it can wait until tomorrow.**

Lestrade laughed and typed back a quick reply-

**Tonight was actually really nice, I'm seeing him again this weekend. Tell Sherlock I'll see him at the yard tomorrow.**

Lestrade put his phone next to him and sunk into the soft fabric of the sofa, he closed his eyes, knowing that he would soon fall asleep. And not caring that he would wake up with a painful back.


	5. 5 Epilogue

Epilogue

2 Weeks later

"Isn't it obvious? The shoes! No straight man would care that much about his shoes; did you see he has a membership to the boutique? Who has a membership to a _boutique?_ He's obviously gay. Therefore he couldn't have possibly have slept with the woman on that night, which means he has no alibi. That and the fact that he has the murder weapon mounted on his wall. Call him in."

The three officers stared at Sherlock in disbelief. Lestrade was the one who broke the silence, "Listen if you're making this up…"

"Why would I be making this up? You saw the knife collection in his living room," Sherlock said obviously.

Lestrade nodded at the detective and pointed at the three officers, "Go tell Sergeant Donovan, you'll go with her to arrest him."

The officers nodded and ran off to tell the sergeant. He turned back to the men when he saw a sleek black car pull up outside the station. Lestrade grinned at the sight and watched as Mycroft stepped out of the car and sauntered up to the three men.

Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically, "What are you doing here, Mycroft?"

Mycroft stared at his younger brother, "I am here to-"

"I don't want to see you" interjected Sherlock. "You have no reason to be here."

Mycroft pursed his lips, "Don't flatter yourself, brother mine. I am not here to see you, I am here to see Gregory."

John raised his eyebrows whilst Sherlock scoffed, "Gregory? Who's Gregory?"

"Me," growled Lestrade. "That's my name."

Sherlock frowned at the DI. "Why does he want to see you?"

"We're going to have dinner," Mycroft answered.

John raised his eyebrows even further, "Really? Well, have fun."

"Dinner?!" burst out Sherlock.

"Oh we will," Mycroft said to John, ignoring his brother.

"Dinner?!" demanded Sherlock again.

Lestrade glared at the younger of the Holmes brothers, "Yes, dinner. Is there a problem?"

"None at all!" John cut across Sherlock, who was about to reply. "We'll be on our way." He grabbed Sherlock's hand and dragged him from the pair. They could here Sherlock ranting to John about the both of them even as he walked away.

"So, dinner?" Lestrade changed the subject.

"Yes. Are you free?" Mycroft purred.

"Yeah, I'll go and grab my stuff," Lestrade reached up and kissed Mycroft on his cheek, who blushed.

"What?!" roared Sherlock. He had been watching the two of them talk from the car park several metres away. John reddened in embarrassment and grabbed Sherlock on his arm, dragging him away forcefully.

"It never ceases to amaze me, how our relationship repulses my brother," Mycroft chuckled.

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read this all the way through, and to the people who have followed it and added it as one of your favourites. Please review and tell me what you think, if you like it let me know an then I may do some more Mystrades. Thank you so much, and I hope you like it!**

**Mrs H x**


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